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MAR l 



>« 



FIVE ACT MELODRAMA, 

PS <o 3 5- 

Z3 L 2/74- 



ENTITLED- 



/ ^ 



O fc ' Ma 

LOVE or HONOR 



WRITTEN BY- 



J. S. LUDINGTON and JAS. MOFFATT, 



OF SELMA, CAL. 



Copyrighted by J. S. Ludington and James Moffatt, of Selma, Cal. 

December, 1898. 



FIVE ACT MELODRAMA, 



■ENTITLED- 



LOVE or HONOR, 



WRITTEN BY 






/ ■ 

J. S. LUDINGTON and JAS. MOFFATT, 



OF SKLMA, CAL. 



Copyrighted by J. S. Ludington and James MofYatt, of Selma, Cal. 

December, i8q8. 



>"© 






As* 



SCENES G&£ 



FIRST ACT. 

FOREST SCENE \ 

LODGE GATE ...... f 

DRAWING ROOM } All laid in England. 

MOONLIGHT SCENE ... ) 

SECOND ACT. 

DRAWING ROOM Bombay, India. 

LODGE GATE England. 

THIRD ACT. 

WILFRED'S DYING BED \ , England 

DRAWING ROOM " 

DRAWING ROOM India, 

ocrTfti INT ERMISSION 

>4tt4 FOURTH ACT. 

EARL OF MORVEN'S ROOMS India. 

HAROLD MICAWBER'S ROOMS " 

VISCOUNT LOUNTRIE'S ROOMS " 



FIFTH ACT. 

STELLA MICAWBER'S BOUDOIR, {night) 

FOREST SCENE AND DUEL 

drawing room England, 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
9 9 © 9 

VISCOUNT LOUNTRIE. JOHN HARRISON. 

WILFRED, King of the Gipsies LESLIE MORVKN. 

EARL OF LOUNTRIE. STELLA MICAWBER. 
EARL OF MORVKN. The Right Honer able Lady Lountrie 



And Other Subordinate Characters. 



ACT I. 

Forest Scene with Country Road — Appropriate Instrumental Piece. 

Entry of Wilfred, King- of the English branch of Gypsies 
(Paces stage restlessly) 

Wilfred — Will he never come! 
(Soliloquizes) 

What an exquisite, subtile revenge I have planned. 
(Rubs his hands joyously) 

My plans must, shall succeed; but to be successful I must win Matino; 
but to win him, I must tell him all, yes, all. Well, so be it, my heart 
has bled before; once more or less matters but little, my revenge will 
be but the dearer and sweeter to me. 

Matino enters in haste. 
All! Matino, what has detained you? 

Matino — (gruffly) — Matter enough; those dolts hung back, being afraid of the 
heavy hand of the law and it exhausted my stock of patience and 
diplomacy, and, in fact, it was only by threats that I finally succeeded. 
Wilfred, I have obeyed your commands to the very letter and I claim 
the right, upon my own behalf, to protest against this contemplated 
outrage, and Wilfred, I have strong misgivings that serious trouble 
will come of it. 

Wilfred- -Matino, you shall know all, but first are you sure of your men? 

Matino — Yes, through the power of fear I am sure of them. 

Wilfred — 'Tis well; Matino, give me your attention; you shall know all. 
When you have learned my wrongs, then, and not before, will you 
realize what human suffering means. Matino, you remember Zai 
little Zai, my darling, my one treasure. Ah! Matino, I tried so hard 
to protect her, but what were my poor powers, when pitted against 
a devil in human form, a man god-like in appearance, but 
steeped to his very lips in sensuality — aye, the very incarnation of 
sensuality. Oh Heavens, and ye heavenly hosts, you look calmly 
and smilingly down upon us poor mortals, whose daily portions are 



but anguish and broken hearts; can there be a God, a Supreme Being, 
just as well as merciful. Xo! I cannot! I cannot believe it. Knough; 
Matino, the betrayer came, the villain, the seducer; son of one of the 
proudest, noblest, most honorable — Ha! Ha! honorable. Honor, there 
is honor among the downtrodden, tax-ridden poor, but among the 
purse proud and titled, it is false as hell! They are without honor! 
They are but gamblers and betrayers of women. Matino, the villain 
came with his honeyed tongue and smooth court ways; he came in the 
guise of an artist and won my confidence by his frank, manly ways; 
Matino, I must hasten; I find the ordeal greater than I can bear. He, 
he, won my treasure's love. She agreed to fly with him and upon 
one dark, stormy night they fled. The heavens upon that night 
opened their batteries of thunder and lightning; it was a fearful, fearful 
night — fit for such a dark deed. When I discovered my loss, I 
searched the surrounding country with the energy of a madman, but 
naught came of it for seven long months. One day I passed an 
elegant equipage, driven by an elderly gentlemen, the exact image of 
the man that palmed himself off upon me as an artist. I instinctively 
felt that my long, long search was ended. I hastened to find out his 
name and lineage. Matino, one of his manly names and titles was the 
good and honorable Earl of Morven. I demanded to see him but 
was driven from his gates by his pampered meineals, but I was de- 
termined and finally met him out riding and, taking his horses by the 
head, forced him to listen to my wrongs; he laughed at my tale and 
tossed me a guinea, and in doing so, he, by his sudden action threw 
me prostrate; he drew up and asked: 'Are you injured?' I answered, 
'Karl of Morven, drive on; it matters naught to you whether I am 
injured or not, drive on.' I learned that his son was in Paris; I 
hastened there but could learn no tidings and finally, as you know, 
returned to Kssex and the old camping ground, hoping and trusting 
that Zai would return. And, as you know, she did return, hollow- 
eyed and broken hearted. The villain had deserted her in a small 
countn village with but a few shillings: yes, left her to starve. 
Matino, will you help me to revenge her, as you know Zai and her 
child pined away and left my wife and I disconsolate? Matino will 
you aid me? 

Matino doffs his hat and brushing away a tear, clasps Wilfred by 
the hand and slowly and tiri'pressively exclaims: 

Matino — 1 solemnly swear to aid you; no danger or fear of personal harm shall 

deter me. 
Wilfred — (gratefully) — I knew you would be true to her. Matino, you remem- | 

ber the child we stole and how you have grumbled unceasinglv ever 



r> 1 .' 



5 

since. Matino, she is the daughter of that proud house. This child, 
I cannot keep; I have planned for you to attack this lodge-keeper, 
John Harrison. I will pretend to rescue him; he will naturally feel 
grateful and ask if it is in his power to befriend me in some way. I 
will ask him to take Leslie; she will grow up and become identified 
with the lower classes and finally will marry some country bumpkin, 
and upon her wedding day I will send word to the proud, haughty 
Earl of Morven, J;hat his lovely and only daughter is married to a 
country boer. Imagine his feelings at having to acknowledge such a 
man as his son-in-law. Ha! Ha! Good Matino, will not that be a 
sweet, sweet revenge? 

Matino — (very gravely)— It will be a terrible revenge, but Wilfred, your 
wrongs are great, and I will aid you; let us go. 

Kxhit hastily— Wilfred returns immediately with a body of gypsies. 
Wilfred — Men, conceal yourselves behind rocks and trees, and when I give the 
signal be prepared to aid me in rescuing this man that Matino and his 
men will attack. Here he comes! Hasten and conceal yourselves 

The Lodge Keeper, John Harrison, jogs slowly on the stao- e seated 
in a phaston— Matino and his men rush from their various & places of 
concealment and attack him fiercely. 

Matino — Your money or your life! 

John Harrison — Here is my purse; it contains but a few shillings, but it is all 

I have 

(Matino, after examining contents, throws it upon the stage contemptousl y) 

Matino — Away with him! We will hold him for a ransom. 

At this juncture, Wilfred and his men rush upon the stao- e and 
attack Matino and his force and put them to flig-ht. Wilfred^rai es 
Harrison carefully, saying - : 

Wilfred— \ hope the scoundrels have not injured you? 

Harrison — No, only slightly shaken up, but you have undoubtedly saved me 
from rough treatment; how can I repay you? If you can give me 
an opportunity to show my gratitude, pray do so. 

Wilfred— -I am Wilfred, the King of the Engish branch of Gypsies, and I know 
you to be Mr. Harrison, lodge-keeper for the Earl of Eountrie. You 
can do me a great favor and more than repay the slight service I have 
rendered you. Mr. Harrison, I have had a young girl entrusted to my 
care. I cannot keep her without great inconvenience and I am anx- 
ious to secure a suitable home for her. Could you take her into your 
family? I, of course, would see that you are well recempensed. 

Harrison— Gladly and willingly, and still be your debtor. 

Wilfred — Tomorrow, I will bring you a sealed package, and I earnestly 



request that you do not open it until her wedding day. 
Harrison — I give you my word of honor. 
Wilfred— Your word is sufficient; honor is a word without meaning. Give me 

your word instead. 
Harrison — I willingly promise. 
Wilfred—It is well. I have told you that I am Wilfred, the King of the 

English branch of Gypsies; we are camped but a short distance from 

here. I will call my wife. 

Goes to wings and calls, Elnorah! Elnorah! She hastily appears. 
Wilfred — Elnorah, Leslie leaves us at once; pack her clothing, etc., and 

(sternly) also see that you keep your own counsel. 
A///0rtf/?— (anxiously)— Will I see the child again? 
Wilfred — Elnorah, bid the child good bye, forever, you will not see her again. 

Elnorah returns with the child, very much affected. Harrison ad- 
vances, pleasantly saying": 

Harrison— So this is Leslie. Come with me my child unhesitatingly. Your 
troubles are virtually over. 

Lifts and places the child in the phaeton, bids Wilfred a hearty 
good night, and drives off. 

Wilfred— (joyously)— All works smoothly. My revenge, ray revenge is sure. 
Scenery — Lodge Gate — Ten years intervening. 

Rupert rides up to gate after a three miles ride from station, after 
being away about ten years to college, and finds it locked. He exclaims: 

Rupert — This is but a sorry home-coming. No one to welcome me; what can it 

all mean. 

(Throws himself upon a rustic seat disgustedly.) 

Entree of Beatrice and her adopted sister. Leslie. Rupert recog- 
nizes Beatrice, and »,eslie' more -particularly, as his chum and playmate. 

(He jumps to his feet and cries:) 

Leslie. Leslie, have you forgotten me? 

(And she, hearing his voice turns surprised, seeing the owner, leaps forward, 
gladly saying:) 

Leslie — Oh, Viscount, Viscount, you have come home again. 

(Holds her lips up invitingly for a kiss, as she lies trustingly in his arms.) 

(Beatrice, talcing in the situation, turns to withdraw.) 
Viscount — Beatrice, bold; will yc/u not congratulate me upon winning Leslie. 

She is my promised bride. 

Beatrice Have you told your father and mother? It' so, I have nothing to say. 

Viscount — No. Beatrice, I have had no opportunity. 



Beatrice — (scornfully) — Viscount, forgive me, I may be wrong. I consider that 

you are acting dishonorably. It is my opinion that you should obtain 

your parents consent first, but Viscount, I am meddling in what should 

not concern me. 

Lodge Keeper enters, laden with vegetables, etc. 

(Seeing- the Viscount, he drops his burden, advances, exclaiming gladly:) 
Harrison — Viscount, Viscount, you have come home again. 

(Shakes Harrison by the hand, saying:) 
Viscount — Yes, John, and to stay, but where is my father and mother. 
Harrison — At Lady Claire's, your godmother; she is very ill. I will send Tom, 

the stable boy and notify them that you have arrived. 
Viscount — No, Harrison, I will await their return. 
Harrison — Excuse me Viscount, I would never succeed in gaining the Earl's 

forgiveness, if I should fail in my plain duty. 

Harrison leaving vegetables upon the stage hastens to the stable 
and dispatches the boy with the news, 

Tom, the Stable boy, dashes across stage plying whip and spur. 

Viscount — (As he is left alone with Leslie says:) — Leslie, thank goodness, we 

now can have a long chat. 

(Drawing a large envelope from his pocket exclaims:) 

Leslie, see what I have won — a first. Will not father and mother be 

happy? 
Leslie — Oh, Rupert, Rupert, what pleasant news. I heard that you had been 

gambling and leading a wild, fast life; how glad and happy I am that 

it was not true. 

Viscount— Come Leslie, and give me a kiss to emphasize your congratulations. 

Leslie — Willingly. — (Kisses him.) 

The Earl of Lountrie enters, rides on stage slowly and dismounts, 
saying to his son in a hearty, genial manner: 

Earl of Lountrie— Ah, Rupert, my boy, you took us by surprise, but you are 
more than welcome. 

(Shakes his son by the hand, and suddenly notices Leslie, looking so pain- 
fully embarrassed, as to cause him to turn suddenly to his son, eyeing 
him questionally. i 

Rupert — Father, I understand, you desire to know my business with this lady. 

Father she is my promised bride. Come, Leslie, and with me ask my 

fathers consent to our union. 
The Earl — (sternly) — Rupert are you mad, but here comes your mother; first 

see her, and then meet me in the library. I will expect and wait for 

you. 

Lady Lountrie enters, kisses Rupert, saying: 



8 

Lady Lountrie— My boy, I am so pleased to see you, but why did you not write; 
but never mind Rupert, you are here, you are through with your 
career at college, and now we will have such pleasant times. How 
proud and happy I will be, to have you, Rupert, to escort me, and take 
care of me— but Rupert, may I ask what this young lady is waiting 
for? She certainly is not waiting on my account. 

Viscount — Mother, Leslie has promised to be my wife. I have informed father; 
he refuses to take me seriously. 

Lady Lountrie — I thought as much; upon your last vacation, I saw sufficient to 
give me an inkling of the fact. I had a conversation with your father 
and he informed me, that if my surmises should prove correct, that in- 
stead of a commission in a company stationed in England, he would 
purchase a commission for you in India, and Rupert, I agree with 
him; he will be wise to send you to Russia, to China, to India, or to 
the end of the world to save you from such a mesalliance. Rupert, do 
not interrupt — your father informed me that he desired an interview 
with you, go and see him at once, and end this senseless jeontroversy; 
you need not escort me, I will go by the rose walk, as I desire to 
order a few cut flowers. We will have a few friends at dinner; pray 
be discreet and drop this disagreeable subject for good, (and turning 
sharply to Leslie.) no gossiping. 

[ Hscount— Mother, how cruel women are to each other; the young lady is 
blameless. 

Lady Lountrie —(coldly) — Rupert, please see your father at once. 

Rupert bows, silently escorts his mother to the lodge irate. V>\ the 
time he has returned. Leslie, has by a side gate made her escape. 

Viscount — What, Leslie gone; (disconsolately) when you get in trouble, and 
upon their account, they are first to - Oh, pshaw! I will go and meet 
my father, but I will not yield Leslie, and of course the brilliant pros- 
pect in store for me is banishment to that confounded country, India. 
If I could but trust Leslie to remain true to me. 
Leslie — Rupert, you can. 1 have been guilty of eavesdropping, but go and 
meet your father. I promise to remain true to you. 

Viscount — (eagerly) — Will you promise to meet me in the south grove tonight, 

and learn the result of my interview. 

Leslie enters by the side gate over which she has been leaning and 
placing her head trustingly upon his shoulder, finally raises her head, 
and says: 

Leslie — It is wrong, but I will meet you at 9 o'clock. Now go, your father will 

become impatient. 
Viscount — I now know that you are true, and leave you contentedly. 



* 



Seenery — Earl of Lountrie } s Drawing Room. 

Rupert enters, salutes his father. 

The Earl — Well, Rupert, I have a pleasant surprise for you. I am notified that 
there is a vacancy in the Seventeenth, a crack regiment. I have the 
refusal, and am only awaiting your acceptance to pay the purchase 
money. 

Rupert — Father, how can I thank you? Your brilliant offer exceeds my wild- 
est hopes. 

The Earl — By giving me your word not to marry without my consent. Your 
silly outburst alarms me, and I do not intend taking any chances of 
you contracting a mesalliance. Give me your promise and we will 
consider the matter settled. 

Rupert — Father, I cannot! My honor is involved, I am pledged to Leslie. 

The Earl — (sarcastically) — You imagine that you are madly in love, but enough 
of this nonsense. Give me your word. If you refuse, you shall sail 
for India at once. I am aware of several of your wild escapades at 
college, but my son let that pass, the annoyance to me was nothing 
compared to the pain I now suffer at your refusal to comply with my 
desires. End this senseless controversy and give me your promise. 

Rupert — Father, will you not understand that we truly love, and that my honor 
is at stake? And father, wild as I was at college, here are my creden- 
tials, proving that my time was not all wasted. 
(The Karl opens and peruses the document and exclaims.) 

The Earl — What, can this be true, you carried off a first? My boy, I am proud 
of you. Does your mother know? 

Rupert — No sir, I had no opportunity to inform her. 

The Earl — She must know at once (rings bell, footman enters) James, in- 
form Lady Lountrie that I desire her presence immediately. (And 
turning to his son affectionately, he remarks:) Rupert, my son, you 
have done well. You have carried off the honors that have only been 
won once before in our history. Your great grand-uncle, John Fitz 
James Fauntleroy Lountrie, carried off a first, and afterwards became 
First Lord of the Treasury. Rupert, he was a great man, and placed 
the House of Lountrie upon a solid foundation, which has never been 
shaken, and made it foremost in war, as well as in the ministery. The 
escutcheon of the Lountries is without a blemish. The daughters of 
our house have been noted for their beauty and virtue, attributable 
without doubt — beauty especially — to the strain of Castillian blood in- 
termingled with ours through the marriage of Egbert, the fourth Earl, 



IO 

with Loneta, the beautiful, lovely and, strange to say for those times, 
virtuous daughter of the proud and haughty house of Castile, Spain. 
Our Vignette, "Honor is the only true watchword" has never been sul- 
lied. The virtue of our daughters, though subjected to the rude, bold 
and persistent assaults of princes, has never been questioned, and un- 
like most of our proud houses, no bastard can trace his lineage, or 
claim that one drop of Lountrie blood flows in his veins. Rupert, to 
make it honestly as well as truthfully, is a grand and proud boast, 
and my boy of whom I am so proud, when the fortunes of the House 
of Lountrie passes into your keeping, see that the lustre remains 
undimmed. Rupert, see that our Vignette, "Honor is the only true 
watchword" passes without a stain, unmarred from your hands. 

Lady Lountrie enters. 
Helen, our boy returns to us with a first, I could not leave you in 
ignorance a moment longer than necessary. 

Lady Lountrie — Can this be true? I am so pleased; how proud I am of you. 
(Kisses him, turns to the Earl and sadly says:) 
Father, must he go? 
(The Earl paces the floor, turns to his son and says impressively:) 

The Earl — My son, that I am so proud of, it all depends upon you. I am 
not young, and it would rill your mother's and my heart with joy to 
keep you in England. Can you turn a deaf ear to your mother's 
prayer? Rupert, weigh this matter carefully. 
(A painful pause ensued, and his parents regard Rupert anxiously.) 

Rupert — (in a broken voice.) — Mother, father, forgive. I sail for India by the 
first steamer. 

77/ e Earl — Helen, please leave us, Rupert is incorrigable. 

Lady Lountrie — (Places both hands upon her husbands shoulders, saying:) — 
Husband, be kind to our only boy. 

The Kai /—Helen, I will. 

Lady Lountrie — (to son) — Rupert, Rupert, do not go. 

Rupert — Mother, I must. 

(He kisses her and escorts her to the door; as he returns, his father escorts 
him to a seat.) 

llic Earl — (Consults newspaper and reads) — "The fast India steamer, Majestic, 
sails for Bombay on the 15th." Well, Rupert, you have decided; I 
will make all needful arrangements and write to Micawber, the Mer- 
chant Prince of Bombay and Calcutta. He is a warm personal friend 
and will, without doubt, extend to you every courtesy in his power; 
the government is using every eftbrt to crush this terrible mutiny. 



II 

Well Rupert, that I believe, is all for the present. Prove yourself 
worthy in India as you have at Oxford and I will forgive much. Ru- 
pert leave me for the present, I have much to attend to. 

Rupert — Good afternoon father. 

The Earl — Good afternoon Rupert. 
Exit Rupert. 

Same scenery as above — No change — Evening. 

Present, several ladies and gentlemen, discussing- the coming- de- 
parture of the Viscount. 

Mr. Tolmic — Viscount, you take but a short vacation and in doing so, you dis- 
appoint all your friends; we were in hopes of keeping you during the 
hunting season at least. 

Rupert — Ladies and gentlemen, it has been my ambition to visit India. When 
could I choose a more appropriate period — and I will be able to gain 
the experience neccessary to make a good soldier and as I will not see 
England for a long time I should like to ask you all tc join me in 
singing Auld Lang Syne; it would be a pleasent memory for me to 
take out with me. Father, with your permission, I will order in the 
punch bowl and then we can sing it the good old way. 

The Earl — Certainly, certainly, Rupert, give the necessary order. 

Rupert rings and orders punch bowl and glasses and company sing 
Auld Lang Syne. 

Moonlight scene — Lodge gate. 

Viscount and Leslie can be seen approaching in the distance; they 
stroll on stage. 

Leslie — Oh, Rupert, Rupert, if you should prove false to me, what shall I do? 

You possess my love, my heart, my honor — all that I possess in this 

cruel, too cruel world. 
Rupert — Dear one, will you not trust me for but one short year? Trust me, 

and I will return devoted to you and to you alone, darling. My father 

is a prince among men, and when he learns that mine is no boyish 

passion, he will grant our prayer. . 

Beatrice is heard calling Leslie, Leslie, and startles the couple. 
Leslie — Oh, Rupert, there is Beatrice calling me — good bye Rupert, I must go. 

(.Rupert kisses her, and in the act, Beatrice comes through the gate, and says:) 
Beatrice — Oh, heavens! Has it gone so far. Shame, shame, Leslie! Come home 

with me Leslie; it is late and very chilly. 
Rupert — Beatrice, Leslie and I love each other, be a kind and true friend to her 

when I am gone, she will, I fear need you sorely. 



12 

Beatrice — (scornfully,)— Viscount Lountrie, go! You have ruined my dear 

sisters life; have some pity, you cruel man and leave us at once. 
Leslie — (wildly.)— Rupert, Rupert, farewell, farewell. 

Rupert — Leslie, trust me; I pledge to you my honor, the honor of a Lountrie. 
Beatrice— Qo\ go at once! The honor of the Lountrie is dead. 

TABLEAU. 

Beatrice with arm thrown protectingly around Leslie and her disen- 
gaged hand pointing toward Rupert— Rupert in a supplicating 
attitude — Leslie sobbing upon Beatrice shoulder. 

(curtain.) 

ACT II. 

Drawing room scene in Bombay, at Mr. Micawber^s residence. 

Present, Stella Micawber, the hostess and heiress and numerous 
friends (all ladies) sipping- tea and chatting-, discussing the arrival of 
the Viscount — entr}' of Mr. Micawber. 

D. Micawber — Good afternoon ladies. Stella, I am advised that the Majestic is 

reported; as you already know my old friend's son arrives on her — 

the Viscount Lountrie. I desire to extend every courtesy to him; 

please assist me in doing so. I will hasten to meet the steamer and 

until my returnt ladies, a pleasant afternoon and I trust we will all 

meet at dinner — good afternoon. 
Exit Mr. Micawber. 
Miss Eldridge — (charhngly) — Stella in an hour your Viscount will be here 

Are you not nervous. 
Stella Micawber — (shaking her finger menaceingly) — Ella Eldrige, none of your 

chaff, you cannot tease me. I am armor proof; you are far more likely 

to carry of the prize. 
Miss Eldridge — Nonsense, we are but your foils; you always have everything 

your way. Girls, am I not right? 

(Chorus of girls enjoying- the passage of arms.) 
Girls — Ella you are right, you are right. 

(Stella thumps the drum.) 

And we are only to pleased to keep time to any air from the "King of 

Timbuctoo," to a "Rollicking blade am I." 

(The girls all take up the air, "A rollicking- blade am I," and then fall back 

upon their seats laughing.) 

(Stella, angry, but not desiring- it to be seen, steps upon a footstool and rais- 
ing hands and eyes dramatically exclaims:) 

Stella— Girls, 1 give you warning, I accept the gauntlet you. have thrown down 

— the challenge you have offered. I will win the Viscount if lean. 



13 

He may come poverty-stricken, as I have had it suggested to me, that 
that was his father's object in shipping him to Bombay. But girls, 
what is bread and butter, lemon pie and potatoes, pate defoisgras, and 
that odious American dish, pork and beans, when we truly love? 
E'en before we meet, I feel that in you I have met my fate. Are not 
your dark brown curly locks the foil nature designed for my fair ones? 
Oh, love, hasten to pour your tale of love into my willing ears, we will 
revel in our love dream, will — 
(One of the ladies falls back crying-:) 

Stella hush! hush! 

(Two of the other young- ladies in more surpresssd tones, but far more earn- 
estly. 

Sh! Sh! Stella for goodness sake, shut up. 

Stella looking startled, turns quickly, and seeing all eyes directed 
to the entrance, walks and without the slightest hesitation when she 
reaches the entrance, firmly draws the portiers to one side, disclosing 
to audience and all, Mr. Micawber, Viscount Lountrie and several other 
gentlemen. Stella aghast, stands speechless and disconcerted. 

D. Macawber — (enjoying her confusion) — Viscount Lountrie, my madcap 
daughter, who in pretending to allow me to rule; holds the reins with 
a hand of iron. Viscount, never allow yourself to be subjugated by a 
lady. 

Viscount — Mr. Micawber you do not deceive. I perceive very clearly that you 
are proud to acknowledge Miss Micawber's rule and I honor and 
esteem you for so doing. Miss Micawber, will you not welcome me 
to India? 

Stella —Viscount Lountrie, thank you for championing the weaker sex and I 
do heartily bid you welcome to India. I trust and hope that your ex- 
perience and stay in India will be pleasant. Permit me to introduce 
you to my friends. 

(After introducing she consults her watch and says:) 

Papa, we have barely time to make ourselves presentable; will you 
and the gentleman excuse us. 

D. Micawber— Well if you young ladies are going, let us gentlemen adjourn to 
my smoking den, and enjoy a weed before dressing. 

Drawingroom — after dinner — No cliange. 

(Company of ladies chatting, laughing, etc.) 

Miss Eldridge — Stella, you are doing famously. The Viscount, figuratively 
speaking is at your feet. When does he pour his burning love story 
into your willing ears? I will be pleased to loan you a gallon meas- 



*4 

ure and also a funnel, so, that if the measure overflowed, none would 
be wasted. And, if you take the precaution of providing an additional 
vessel, by the discreet and intelligent use of the same, the precious 
extract of his wondrous love would be secured without any loss, or the 
usual waste, and properly sealed, corked and labled, would be of 
inestimable value to posterity. And Girls, what a relic it would make, 
labeled: "The vessel that contained the love tale that was once poured 
into Stella Micawber's willing ears, and melted and subdued her 
marble heart." 
Miss Feiling — Dear Stella, pray, for once, be amiable and do arrange that T 
may have the privilege of hearing the passionate outpouring of his 
wondrous love, and his wordy and windy declaration, that he has 
never loved before, and that you are his first and only love etc., and 
oh! I should like to see Stella with the marble heart, gracefully re- 
clining in his dear arms and murmuring: "Dearest Rupert, was there 
ever, ever love to equal ours?" and to hear his frantic answer — Oh! 
girls, it would be something to treasure all the days of our lives 
(giris all laugh heartily.) 

Miss Eldridge — Well girls, this Viscount is no timid woer, and from the pro- 
gress that he has already made, I predict the denouement inside of 
a week and the Viscount wearing Stella's scalp at his belt as a silent 
and eloquent witness of his prowess. Come, girls, let us take that 
old fraud — Father Time — by the forelock and join with me in con- 
gratulating the future Viscountess Lountrie. 

(g-irls all croud around Stella, making their obeisance, waving handker- 
chiefs, etc.) 

Stella — You absurd girls! 

(steps upon a foot stool and waves her handkerchief in imitation of a Hag and 
cries.) 

AJflag of truce! I make no terms! I surrender unconditionally! Be 
generous girls, and allow me to retain my arms and to march out with 
the customary honors. 
Miss Feiling — Well Stella, we will be magnanimous. You shall retain your 
arms. You will need them sorely, to support the Viscount when you 
paralize him by murmuring: "Rupert, I am yours," in answer to his 
incoherent prayer. 

Stella — Girls, girls! The gentlemen are coming. Do be quiet, and behave 

yourselves for once if you can — which I very much doubt. 

Gentlemen stroll in and the Viscount immediately joins Stella, 
saying: 

Viscount — Miss Micawber, I will not miss England as much as I expected. I 



i5 

have already met so many pleasant people, I would like to say 
friends, but that would be presumption upon so short an acquaintance. 

Stella — (laughing, taps him lightly on the shoulder with her fan and says:) — 
I dub you friend What will they say in England when they learn 
you have won your spurs without leaving Bombay? 

Viscount — They will question my assertion but — (bowing) — I hope and trust 
that I will prove worthy. 

Stella — You will, I trust, prove no recreant knight — but Viscount, please ex- 
cuse me, I am neglecting my guests. Come, ladies and gentlemen, let 
us adjourn to the lower drawing room and we will endeavor to en- 
tertain you all with some music. 

Scene — Same Room — Two weeks later. 

Viscount enters. 
Viscount — (cogitating) — For two weeks I have been Stella's shadow, but I 
might as well have been in the antipodes for all the visible impression 
I have made. I have asked her to grant me an interview^. — 

Stella's voice heard in the distance calling- her collie. 
(Viscount delightedly i 
She is coming this way — Now for the struggle. I will! I must win! 

Stella enters leasurely, singing softly — pauses in surprise- — 

Stella— Whatl You, Viscount? 

Viscount — (reproachfully) — Have you forgotton my prayer for an interview? 
Stella, you are aware that my furlough expires today. You are also 
aware, that loving you as I do, it is impossible for me to leave you in 
this state of uncertainty and suspense. Stella, listen to me — or are 
you the heartless coquette with the marble heart that people claim 
you are? 

Stella — Viscount Lountrie, you have only been in India for two weeks, and 
you profess boundless love for me. Viscount, I have no confidence 
in love of such mushroom growth, and it is unbecoming and un- 
maidenly of me to discuss the subject. Viscount, I will say good 
morning. 

Viscount— Stella! Stella! 

Stella— Viscount, it is impossible for me to permit you to address me by my 
given name. Good morning. 

Viscount — To me you are Stella, my star, my love, my more than life. 

Stella— (aside to audience) — Is he not perfectly lovely? I am sure that he 
loves me, but I must be more than cold. No! — the gentleman must 



i6 

wait and then, manlike, he will appreciate me all the more. 

Viscount, you are a gentleman; permit me to pass. 

Viscount — (aside to audience) — I cannot believe that I am indifferent to her. 

She has unconciously given me too many proofs to the contrary. 

No. it shall not be; I will win her in the next five minutes. If I fail, 

I can hut lie a target, for that fire-eating brother of hers. 

'He advances calmly and in spite of her strug-gdes holds her in his arms and 
kisses her on the lips repeatedly and then releases her. She regards him 
scornfully and then exclaims: 

Stella — A manly act. Viscount, am I at liberty to depart? 

(The Viscount eyes her keenly, finally searches for and finds his card case, 
and taking- a card from it, extends it to her saying - : 

Viscount — Stella, after what has occurred, you, womanlike, will want revenge. 

Hand my card to your brother and I will be at his disposal. Ami 

Stella, if ever a man touches your marble heart, do not, for the sake of 

your own happiness, treat him as eruely as you have treated me. Do 

not fear for me; I will die bravely; proud that I die for Stella Micawber. 

Stella, farewell forever. If a man ever loved a woman. 1 love you. 

Fare, fare you well, and may all the joy and happiness that life can 

give be yours. Farewell forever. 

Stella — Rupert, Rupert, I can bear no more, if you care for me, take me. 

Viscount — (stammers) — Am I, am I dreaming? 

(puts his arm around Stella's waist, she nestles close to him and with up- 
raised face inviting a kiss.) 

Stella, my love, my life. 1 was prepared for death, and you dear, with 
the magic wand of love have brought me back to lite. Kiss me dear 
Stella, to prove to me that I am not dreaming. 
Stella — You shall have a dozen. 

(Rupert kisses her repeatedly.) 

Rupert, please forgive me, but I will make amends, and Rupert, us this 
is your last day in Bombay, help me to spend it pleasantly. Oh. Ru- 
pert. I have won you but to lose you — but there — we must not cloud 
our last few hours. Rupert, there is an archery meet at Mrs. Clinton's: 
I will loan you my favorite bow and a quiver of my choicest arrows and 
[ will teach you how to shoot, 
(strikes an attitude.' 

You have taught me how to handle 1 cupids bow and I will retaliate 
(kisses her and says.) 

Viscount — Stella, how. how I love you. 

ilia, nestling in his arms laughingly exclaims:) 
Stella — Rupert, the girls were right and the denouement lias come. I now 



17 
know what happiness means; come dear Rupert, let us go. 

(curtain.) 

ACT II. 

Scene— Lodge gate — England. 

(Harrison reading - a letter from Wilfred.) 
Harrison — "Come to me at once; I am on my death bed; come, come quickly." 
I must go at once. He will, I hope and trust, clear up the mystery of 
Leslie's life. Poor child, she is pining away. When her child was 
born I was in hopes that then she w^uld have an object in life. If I 
only knew the wretch that betrayed her, but she is determined to 
shield him — but I must hasten to Wilfred. 

Scene changed to-Wilfred } s sick bed. 

(Wilfred evidently very ill. Wilfred and Harrison in earnest conversation.) 
Wilfred: — You have forgiven me for wronging you and harrison my re- 
venge HAS FAILED. 
Harrison — (turns to audience) — I cannot, cannot, tell this man that his cup of 

revenge is full and overflowing; no I cannot. 
Wilfred — I committed a fearful wrong againgt that poor child, but my strength 
is fast waning; the details you will learn by reading the sealed pack- 
age 1 left in your care. Harrison, the child in your care — is the daugh- 
ter OF THE EAR I, OF MORVEN. 

Harrison — What, you are mad! Leslie the daughter of an English peer? 
Man! Man! What have you done— but I am not your judge. Make 
your peace with your maker, he knows your provocation. I must see 
the Earl of Lountrie and ask his assistance to unravel this tangled 
skein. 

Wilfred — Harrison, the parents had done me no wrong, but their son had 
blasted and ruined four lives, zai and her child, my wife and 
I; four lives Harrison. Was that no incentive for revenge? And in 
telling the tale, also tell impartially the story of my great wrongs. 

Harrison — I promise faithfully and I will see you again without fail. Wilfred 
for the present I can promise nothing more, goodbye. 
(Bids Wilfred adieu.) 

Scene — Earl of Lountrie } s drawing room. 

Earl — I wonder what is detaining my wife? Morven, in answer to my telegram, 
is here, impatient to meet his child. My wife promised to hasten, and 



i8 

to return with Leslie in an hour's time. What can possibly be detain- 
ing her. 
(soliloquizing-) 

Well, Well—Real life is stranger than fiction. 

Lady Lountrie enters in out of door costume, and evidently dis- 
tressed. She cries: 

Lady Lountrie — It is terrible! It is terrible! Oh George — 
(and colapses in a large easy chair.) 

Earl — Why — What is the matter? And where is the child Leslie? Morven is 
here, and impatient. 

Lady Lountrie — She will not come. Her father must go to her. 

Earl — Well, there is nothing terrible about that. 

Lady Lountrie — Oh! George, pray do not be hard with me. I need your sup- 
port and love more than I have ever needed them before. You have 
never failed me, do not fail me now. 

Earl — (steps over and places his hand on her shoulder and says) — Helen, some- 
thing unusual has happened. It is not your fault; it must be told. 
Tell me at once. 

Lady Lountrie — (rises, and ringing her hands in despair cries) — Leslie has a 
child! and ripert is the father! (a lid then colapses.) 

Earl — (steps back from her with ashen face and hollow voice and repeats) — 

LESLIE HAS A CHILD AND RI PERT IS THE FATHER — 
(turns to his wife and says:) 
Helen, are you sure? 
Lady Lountrie — I know it is true. There is no doubt. The poor girl denied it, 
hut Beatrice told me all, and facts corroborate her story beyond even 
the shadow of a doubt. Oh! George, what shall we do? What shall 
we say to Morven? 

Earl — '(hoarsely) — God knows, but there shall be no disavowing the responsibil- 
ities- -God, that a son of mine should be capable of such infamy, and 
viler, far viler, when be thought that his victim was but a poor unpro- 
tected girl. 

(advances to foot lights, saying-:) 

Morven must bo told: and at once — could I not write — No! it is a 
shameful, shameful tale, but it must be told face to face. I would 
sooner meet death than face Morven. Helen, go to your appartments; 
you art 1 evidently ill. 

Lady Lountrie — George, conn 1 to me as soon as you possibly can. 

Earl—DesLY Helen. 1 will. 



19 
(escorts her to the door, returns and mutters:) 

Now for more than a Spartan's courage. It is useless to proscrastinate 
and I will cross the Rubicon and meet Morven at once. 

Same Scene. 

Earl of Lountrie and Earl of Morven enter in earnest conversation. 

Earl of Morven — Well then, Lountrie, we will consider the matter settled. I 
will take Leslie to India — the voyage will do her good — and arrange 
the marriage between the two, and — if possible, effect the Vis- 
count's exchange to some home regiment, and I believe and hope, that I 
will be able to bring the roses back to Leslie's cheeks. God knows, she 
is thin and pale enough now; how that child has suffered, no one — none 
but herself knows. Poor child — but it Avill all come out right now. 

Earl of Lountrie — Morven, I trust to you to see that the marriage becomes an ac- 
complished fact. My honor, and the honor of the House of Lountrie 
is at stake. 

Earl of Morven — Do not be so tragic, Lountrie, all will be well. The young peo- 
ple love each other; we can safely leave the matter in their hands. 
When I brooched the subject to Leslie, she brightened so preceptible 
that* I do not feel the slightest uneasiness. The couple will marry; 
I will secure Rupert's exchange, so good night, Lountrie, Let your 
fears slumber, and remember there is a silver lining to every cloud. It 
is getting late and I will say good night, as I desire to return by the 
first morning's train. Since I have recovered Leslie, I can hardly allow 
her out of my sight. 

Earl of Lou?ilrie — Morven, I wish that I could go out with you, but you know 
my position. My wife has been very ill since she learned of Rupert's 
conduct, but Morven we will let the past bury the past. Good night, 
and pleasant dreams. 

(curtain) 

INTERMISSION. 

ACT III. 

Scene — Stella Micawber^s morning room. 

Stella — I am so restless, so uneasy — Rupert does not come. The Colonel and 
his staff arrived last night and the troops are arriving this morning. 
Why does Rupert not come. 

Footman enters with a note. Stella kisses it and says: 



20 

From Rupert, the dear, dear, fellow; lie did not forget me. 
(opens note and reads.) 

Dear Stella: — Am on duty and see no chance for obtaining leave 
of absence for even a few hours. Imagine if you can, my impatience; 
to be so near you and not to be able to see you is maddening. Dear 
Stella, count on seeing me at ten tomorrow morning. Fool that I am, 
I imagine that you are as anxious as I, but you are dear Stella are you 
not, until tomorrow at ten. 

Yours and yours only — Rupert. 

And Stella, allow me to add, the mutiny is crushed and India is free; 
and Stella, I have won my spurs a second time, Rupert. 

The dear, dear fellow, I was sure that he was thinking of me; I am so 
happy. 

Enters Ianthe, Stella's particular and intimate friend. 

Ianthe — Dear Stella, I am so pleased that I did not miss you, now no excuses. 
Array yourself like a bird of paradise and come forth w ith me to con- 
quer. Bombay is full of life and all her beauty and chivalry is vieing 
with each other, to welcome the returning heroes from the war. I 
have the carriage waiting. We must give the heroes a wave of our 
kerchiefs at least Hark, Stella, hear the reveille sounding? Hasten, 
the returning army is on the march and are entering Bombay. 

Stella — Ianthe, how good you are; I will array myself, but not to conquer. 
See what I have received? 

(draws note from her breast and waves it exultantly.) 

I will go with you gladly, but not to conquer, I have already won. 
Rupert is here and the world of love is mine, mine. 

(curtain.) 
ACT IV. 

Sce?ie — Earl of Morvai's Appartments in Hotel. 

Earl of Morven — I have done many a foolish act, but I believe I have capped 
the climax when I granted Leslie permission to call on the Viscount 
in person, but Beatrice will be with her and I can rest easy; the sea 
voyage has done her good, the roses are again blooming on her cheeks. 
Well? I feel that I can leave the matter to the young people themselves, 
they can arrange it; I would only be a marplot. I will, like my old 
friend Shakespeare, say — "All is well that ends well." 

Scene — Stella's morning room. 

Same scenery as above, slight addition of a few pieces, brie a brae, etc. 
Present Stella Micawber and Viscount Lountrie. 



21 

Stella — Rupert do tell me now how you won your spurs. 
Viscount — Willingly and with pleasure. 

(kisses her and continues.) 

I won my spurs by zvinning Stella Micawber. 

(kisses her.) 

What will they say in England. 
Stella — Oh, you aggravating fellow, why can yon not be sensible, and I objeet 

to being kissed so frequently. 
Viscount — Forgive me Stella, but remember I have been away over a year. 

Can you wonder at my delight, my pleasure and happiness, at being 

reunited to you my queen. 

(kisses her again and laughs.)" 

Enter footman with card on salver. 
Stella — How I detest morning callers, (reads) "The Honorable Leslie Morven." 

Some new arrival; strange that she did not wait for me to make the 

first call, but it does not matter. 

(turns to Rupert and says:) 

I have a caller Rupert, remain: it is undoubtedly simply a call of 

courtesy, so I will be detained but a short time. 

Footman enters and announces, The Honorable Leslie Morven. Leslie 
and Beatrice enter; as they enter I>sslie parceiving Rupert, advances 
hurriedly saying-, joyfully: 

Leslie — Rupert, Rupert, I am here. 

(Rupert rises, staggers and grasps a friendly chair for support and moans:) 

Rupert — My sin, my sin, has found me out. 

Leslie — (pittifully) — Rupert, I, your promised wife, is here; will you not take 
me? 
(Stella stands amazed and in a dazed voice repeats:) 

Stella — His promised wife; his promised wife, what can she mean. 

(Stella recovers herself and addressing the Viscount in a stern voice.) 
Viscount Lountrie, this lady is waiting for your answer. 

Rupert — Give me time and I will explain all. 

Stella — (sarcastically) — Miss Morven, pray be seated, the gentleman requires 
time. 

Leslie — Oh, No! No! Dear Beatrice take me to papa. 
(Stella very pale and stern.) 

Stella — You certainly shall not go, until you have in a measure recovered your- 
self. 



2 2 

(To the Viscount.) 

Viscount Lountrie, if your presence should prove desirable, I will send 

you word. 

Rupert with an effort pulls himself tog-ether and silently bows and 
retires. Stella sadly says: 

My dream of happiness, like a mirage, has passed and gone forever, 
and this poor child's as well; can I not comfort her? Xo, I am helpless, 
but I can and will exert my influence with the Viscount and force him 
to right one of the wrongs he has wrought with such a lavish hand, 
but my skirts shall be clean. No dishonor shall stain the name of 
Stella Micawber, and I will never, never stoop to conquer. 

CHANGE. 

Note — During- the above, Leslie is seated in distress, Beatrice endeavoring 
to comfort her. As change is being made, it might add to the effect if Leslie 
should cry: Oh, Beatrice, take me to papa, take me to papa. To make my idea 
clearer, while wings are cutting off, for Leslie to rise tragically, fall on 
Beatrice shoulder and make the above remark. 

Scene — Earl of Morvens appartments — Slight change of furniture. 

Earl of Morven — All my hopes are blasted. This fellow, is a cad and without 

honor, but I am determined, the marriage shall take place, even 

though it be but a marriage of convenience, and when a decent time 

expires, I will secure a divorce without having the facts blazoned to 

the world. 

Call boy enters with card on salver 

(reads) — Viscount Lountrie. 

(to call boy.) 

Show the gentleman up. 

Viscount Lountrie enters. The gentlemen silently and gravely 
salute each other. Earl of Morven opens the conversation very sternly, 
saying: 

Viscount Lountrie, your father is one of my oldest friends, and I regret 
to meet you, his son, upon the grounds I have to. Vour conduct 
forces me to meet you, and to consider that you are entirely devoid of 
honor, and principal. It would be unseemly for me to indulge in re- 
criminations; that is not my desire. I will only state what is absolutely 
necessary. Sir, to be brief, and to shorten this painful interview, the 
facts are, you met a young girl, innocent and pure; you betrayed her. 
It is idle to go into the details. You came to India, /, also have conic to 
India, and intend that you shall right this wrong. Are you willing to 
do so? 
(slowly and with an effort.) 

Vise on n t — I cannot. 



23 

Earl of M — You cannot sir! I say that before you leave this room, you shall 
agree to marry my daughter, or I will, regardless of my position, post 
you sir, so that you will be compelled to resign; post you sir, so that 
you will be ostracized, and an outcast from society; post you sir, so that 
you will scour the earth for a place of shelter. Do not think this an 
idle threat, or that in exposing you, I will drag my own name through 
the mire. Fortunately, my son has emulated you, and saved me from 
a// care upon that score. Sir, I did not intend to.descend to threats, 
and I will certainly not descend to entreaties. By-the-way sir, may I 
take the liberty of asking, what disposition do you intend, or rather, 
do you intend your son to go through the world nameless.? 

Viscount — My son; did you say my son. 

Earl of M — (sternly) — Yes sir, your son. 

Viscount — (dazed) — Why, that is the first knowledge I have had that I had a 
son. Pray where is he? 

Earl of M — (coldly) — In England, at "Castlewood," my home. 

Viscount — (deeply moved) — Earl, you have been generous and more than kind 
and I thank you for it. 

Earl of M — (sternly) — Viscount — your answer. 

'paces the floor, stops suddenly and evidently in desperation.) 

Viscount— Earl of Morven, do with me what you will, I am in your hands. 

Earl of M — Viscount, this marriage that I insist upon will be but one of con- 
venience, agreeable to my daughters wishes. Your conduct has 
blasted and withered her love for you, as a bleak north wind would 
blast and destroy a delicate flower. My daughter strenuously and 
positively refuses to consent to the marriage, except upon the distinct 
understanding that I have the union annulled, as speedily as possible. 
So Viscount, when a decent time has expired, I will secure a divorce 
without publicity, and then you will be at liberty. Viscount, as we 
fully understand each other, I bid your good morning. 

CHANGE. 

Harold Micaivber^s Appartments. 

Harold Micawber enters, dashes his hat on the floor and givino- it a 
vicious kick says: 

H. Micawber — This is a fine piece of business. This Viscount has been my sis- 
ter's shadow — they became engaged nearly one year ago, and now his 
marriage is announced to take place the day after to-morrow the con- 
tracting parties being — as the invitation card reads — "The Hon. Leslie 
Morven and The Viscount Lountrie." I have asked Stella for. an ex- 



24 

planation. She politely told me to mind my. own business. Neverthe- 
less, I will make this matter my business. I must! 1 have no option! 
1 will call the Viscount out! 

(g-oes to door and calls:) 
Tom' Where the devil are you? 
Tom enters hastil}-. 
Ton — Did you call me Mr. Micawber? 

H. Micawber — (sarcastically) — Did I call — 

(sits down at a table, draws a card form his card case, and writes: — "Easter- 
brooke, if possible, spare me a half hour on important business." — Reads 
to audience, puts note in envelope and addresses it, turns sharply to Tom 
saying"; 

Take this note to Lieutenant Easterbrooke; you will find him at the 
Army Club. If not there, find him, deliver the note, and bring me his 
answer. Be off'! and be no leaden-footed Mercury. Here is a crown to 
accelerate your speed. 

Tom — Yes sir. (pockets crown and disappears with a rush) 

H. Micawber — I will write to this fellow — he will understand — and I will give it 
to Easterbrooke to deliver — providing, of course he consents to act. 
(sits down and writes:) 

Str: — Your insult to my sister can only be atoned for by a meeting. 
This note will be handed you by my second: Lieut. Easterbrooke. who is 
authorized to act for me, and to make all neccessary arrangements upon 
my behalf, with this one exception: I insist: that the meeting take 
place to-morrow morning! 

To keep my sister's name from being unpleasantly connected with the 
affair, I suggest that we mutually agree, that the cause of our meeting 
be assigned to some slighting remark, made by you. reflecting upon my 
courage. ' We will, with your consent, consider that the basis and cause 
of our meeting. 

I beg to remain. Yours Respectfully — Harold Micawber. 

To The Viscount Lountrie, Army Club, Bombay. Feb. 3, 185H. 
Favor of Lieut. Earterbrooke. 
(reads letter to audience — while reading-, Tom enters, breathless and waits 
until Micawber has finished reading- and then reports: 

Tom — Lieut. Easterbrooke presents his compliments and will call at once. 
Easterbrooke enters saying:) 

Easterbrooke — Micawber, have you. or your man gone mad? He insisted thai 
1 should come without delay, and would hardly give me time to put my 
top coat on — It is a fact, he wanted to rush me off hatless as well as 
COatless, and he. himself, da-bed oft' like mad. 

//. Micawber — Easterbrooke, it is a matter of moment. I have been grossly in- 
sulted by Viscount Lountrie. and 1 intend to call him out. and i ask 
von to be mv second. 



25 

Easterbrooke paces stage in deep thought, suddenly stops, and facing- Mi- 
cawber says:) 

Easterbrooke — Before answering, I must know the nature of this insult. 

H. Micawber — Loxmtrie spoke slightingly of my courage. 

Easterbrooke — And you desire to call him out? What were his exact words? 

H. Micawber — (embarrased) — I do not know the exact words used. 

Easterbrooke — (angrily) — Look here; Harold, you are a hot-headed fellow, and I 
know it is useless, utterly useless to argue with you, so I will not at- 
tempt it. I will simply give you my answer: I decline to act and will 
bid you good evening, 
(turns to go, stops, and says:) 

Micawber, if you insist on calling The Viscount out upon any such 
flimsy grounds, I will advise The Viscount to treat your challenge with 
the contempt it deserves, and furthermore, if 1 find that he will not 
take my advice, I will take measures to stop, and to nip your intended 
meeting in the bud. Harold, you would cut a man's throat for a few 
words, that possibly were never uttered. Harold, I have a strong per- 
sonal regard for you: I also have for The Viscount, and I believe him to 
be an honorable man, utterly incapable of using the language that you 
attribute to him. Harold, call and see The Viscount personally, and I 
am satisfied that he will make a satisfactory explanation; Harold, sleep 
upon this matter. Goodnight. 

H. Micawber — Easterbrooke, wait. Your kind interest is appreciated, and I am 
convinced that there is but one course for me to pursue, and that is to 
tell you the facts. You shall be the judge, and upon the verdict shall 
depend whether I meet The Viscount or not. 

Easterbrooke — You are certainly commencing in a rational manner; I am at 
your service, and we will, if possible, see if we cannot arrange this mat- 
ter without a meeting but first, allow me to send a note. 

H. Micawber — I trust that I am not inconveniencing you? 

Easterbrooke — Well, Harold, if you call my relinquishing the attractions of an 
exceedingly handsome young lady, and a very pleasant evening in the 
prospective, you are certainly inconveniencing me, and, as you can im- 
agine, my feelings are far from angelic; but Harold, I would bear the 
loss a hundred times over, sooner thant to have you entrust this matter 
to some hot headed fellow, who could see nothing but the excitement 
of two men endeavoring to cut each other's throats. No, Harold, your 
grievance must be founded upon a sound basis. Please ring for your 
man, and I will send an excuse, and then we will go into this matter 
thoroughly. 



26 

(Sits down to table and writes) 

Tom enters in answer to Micawber's ring-. 
Tom, here is a crown, and here is a note. Deliver that note in the same 
manner that you delivered your master's note to me. 
Exit Tom. 

H. Mican'bei- — (to audience) — Easterhrooke would not hesitate to stop our meet- 
ing; I am almost sorry that I called upon him in this matter, hut he is 
the personification of honor, and I am safe in his hands. I will tell 
him all. 

(rings bell, footman enters.) 

Bring a bottle of sherry and of port, and a hox of strong and mild 
cigars, and he quick about it. 

Juisto -bi -ooke— Why do you not get over your impatient ways? That man Tom, 

of yours, reminds me of a Jack in the hox; he starts, and prepares to 

run before he receives his message. 

Footman enters with a rush, places wine glasses, cig-ars, etc., upon 
a table. Easterhrooke laughs. 

//. Micawber — Come, Easterhrooke, help yourself: the weeds are good. 1 can 

recommend them. 

(The gentlemen seat themselves. Easterhrooke leasurely pours out a glass of 
wine, drinks half of it, sets it down; selects a cigar with care, lights it, 
and puffing away says: 

Easterhrooke — Well. Harold, fire away. I am. as Miss Feiling would say. all 

ears. 

Wings, rapid and slight change, disclosing Viscotit Lountrie's appart- 
ments. 

Scene — Viscount Lountrie*s Appartmcnt '. 

(Present: Viscount and his friend Huntley. Joe, his servant, enterswith card 
on salver.) 

Viscount — (reads) — What, Ksterhrooke, show him up. 

(Esterbruoke enters and shakes hands with the Viscount and the Viscount in- 
troduces him to his friend, Lieutenant Huntly, saying: i 

You two should he goxl friends, you are suited to each other, 
(they shake hands.) 
Easterhrooke — Lieutenant Huntley, \ am pleased to meet you. 
(turns to Viscount and says:) 

Viscount, I am in a most unenviable position and I am compelled to 
ask for a private interview, upon private business. 
Viscount — With pleasure Easterhrooke; step into my den. Huntley, pray ex- 
cuse us for a short time, or rather Huntley, you take possession of my 



» 






27 

den; you will find the latest papers and periodicals and can doubtless 
spend a half hour pleasantly. 

Huntely — Do not hasten on my account, with your bribe of papers, etc., time 
with me will fly. 

Exit Huntley. 

Viscount — Easterbrooke, what is it? I see you are distressed. I sincerely hope 
and trust that it is not upon my account. 

Easterbrooke — I am not only in distress, I am in dread; in positive dread that 
you cannot make a satisfactory explanation, but Viscount, I must 
make the plunge. Here is a letter that 1 am entrusted with; read it 
and then we will see if we cannot come to an understanding. 

Viscount — Easterbrooke, I see by your manner as well as language that your 
business with me is indeed serious. Pray excuse me while I read 
what promises to be a letter of moment. 
(the Viscount opens note, reads and dashes it down crying-:) 
What! Meet Stella's brother? Impossible, impossible. I would sooner 
face a thousand of those fanatics, those black devils, confined at the 
barracks, than face her, her brother, 
i Easterbrooke shocked and dismayed at his agony says kindl}-:) 

Easterbrooke — Lountrie, I am your friend, though acting for Micawber. 
(shakes Easterbrooke's hand and says:) 

Viscount — Easterbrooke, thank you. Give me a few minutes to pull myself to- 
gether. 

Easterbrooke — Lountrie, take your own time. 

Lountrie — Thanks. 

(advances to footlig-hts and says:) 

Beatrice was right — the honor of the Lountrie's is dead. I am con- 
fused; where is that letter? 
(turns and picks up the letter and reads:) 

I insist that the meeting takes place to-morrow morning. 

(Viscount starts and repeats.) 

I insist that the meeting takes place to-morrow morning, 
(gives himself a slight shake and says:) 

Well, Beatrice was right — the honor of the Eountries is indeed dead. 
Come; if I am to die, I will die like a Lountrie. My honor is a thing 
of the past, my love but a memory — love and honor both lost, why 
should I live. Mine own acts, mine own hands has dug mine own 
grave; so be it. I will carry the last scene, of the last act through 
bravely. Now to. business; let me see. I, as the challenged party, 



28 

have the choice of weapons. I will choose rapiers. I can handle a 
rapier fairly well and I might succeed in disarming my opponent. If 
I fail, he can but glut his vengeance, but as for me attempting to injure 
Micawber in any way, that I will not do. 
(turns to Easterbrooke and sa^-s:, 

Easterbrooke, thank you for your patience and kind consideration; I 
have no more I can say no more; the meeting must take place. As 
a man of honor I can say no more, 
(to audience.) 

How the word honor sticks in my throat. I am going down to the 

grave, devoid of honor. It will kill my mother and father, when they 

receive the news, that the son, that they were so proud of is dead. 

Oh! God, it is bitter to die so young, but give me strength to die 

bravely, and becoming an Englishman. Easterbrooke, excuse me; I 

will see Huntley and if he consents to act, I will leave you together. 

Viscount enters room occupied by Huntley. Easterbrooke advances 
to footlights and says to audience: 

Easterbrooke — There is a mistery in this business that I cannot unravel, but if 
I am not mistaken, there is a woman at the bottom of it. Ah! Woman, 
woman, with your changeable moods; shy, coy and difficult to please; 
you rule the world. With a hand delicate and soft as a kittens fur, 
your sovereignty is absolute and complete; your emblem of authority, 
but a wand of love, mightier, far mightier than the mightiest earthly 
power. Pshaw! I am getting poetical. I had an idea, that the last 
few years; hard campaigning had eradicated that bad habit. Well, it is 
difficult to'know how to act. This man I am confident, is only going 
to make a pretense of defending himself. I wonder what weapon he 
will choose, but I will soon know. I wish I could throw the whole 
business up, but I have gone too far, I can do nothing but await de- 
velopement. Yes, lean; I can say what I believe to be the ttruh to 
that hotspur, Micawber, confound him. 
Viscount and Huntley enter. 

\ r iseount — Easterbrooke, Huntley has consented to act; I will leave you to- 
gether. Vou had better adjourn to the other room, you will find it 
more comfortable. Good evening. 
(gravely salute.) 

(curtain.) 






- 






2g 

ACT V. 
StellcCs Boudoir — Night. 

Theatre in absolute darkness, with the exception of night lig-ht 
burning- on beaureau, or side table. Stella dressed, reclining- on lounge. 
Ianthe dozing in easy chair. Mignon, Stella's maid, enters and replen- 
ishes fire. 

(Stella starts up.) 

Stella — Oh Mignon, is that you? Forrester has not come? 

Mignon — No, Miss Micawber. 

Stella — What is the hour, Mignon? 

Mignon — A quarter past four. 

Stella — This suspense is awful, Mignon. If Forrester arrives, admit him in- 
stantly. 

Mignon — Yes, Miss Micawber, and oh, Miss Micawber, excuse me, but I am 
afraid that you will suffer a relapse. 

Stella — ; kindly) — Mignon, it is not the physical, it is the mental suffering. But 
thank you, Mignon, you can go. 

Exit Mignon. 
(Stella continues:; 

Oh Heavenly Father, permit this bitter cup to pass untasted from my 
lips. The thought of his death by one of my own blood is maddening, 
maddening. If it becomes a reality, I shall go mad. Forrester has 
failed me, I am helpless, powerless — let me try and think, have I ex- 
hausted all my resources? — (ponders and says:) There is but one re- 
sort; I will appeal to father; he will not fail me, but how I dread it all. 
Oh, my own brother; my own obtuse brother; if you only knew the tor- 
ture, the agony, you are causing your sister — but it would not deter 
him, he would simpy say that his sister's honor, or some rubbish of 
that sort, was at stake. 
(Ianthe wakes up.) 

Ianthe — Stella, has Forrester returned? 

Stella — (wearily) — No, dear Stella, he has failed me. 

Ianthe — Dear Stella, who is this Forrester, that you have such confidence in? 

Stella —He was a waif on the streets, an American lad that ran away from a 
vessel. I employed him on several occasions to hold my horse for me, 
etc. He used to watch for me; I finally became interested in him; 
I clothed him decently and persuaded papa to give him permanent em- 
ployment, and he has been with him ever since, and has proved him- 



* 



3^ 

self reliable and trustworthy. No, Ianthe, he is, I am positive, ear- 
nestly endeavoring to secure the information I require, and is meeting 
with some unforseen difficulty. 
Mignon enters excitedly. 

Migno7i — Miss Micawber, Forrester is here. 

Stella — (eagerly) — Mignon, show him in at once. 
Forrester enters. 
Forrester, tell me quickly and briefly what you have learned. 

Forrester — Miss Micawber, Viscount Lountrie and your brother have arranged 
to fight a duel this morning at seven o'clock, the place of meeting at the 
second bungalow, on the Cawnpore road. Lieutenant Easterbrooke is 
your brother's second and he told your brother that it was his opinion 
that the Viscount did not intend to do more than defend himself; that 
he was satisfied that was his intention, and that he did not propose to 
stand by and see a murder committed, and he warned him not to inflict 
a mortal wound. Mr. Micawber became angry, but Lieutenant Easter- 
brooke was firm. That is all, Miss Micawber. 

Stella — Oh, Forrester, did he say that. 

Forrester — Yes, Miss Micawber, that is exactly what passed. 
(Stella drops on her knees and exclaims:) 

Stella — Oh, Father in Heaven, I bless and praise Thee. 

(Remains for a few seconds with bowed head. Ianthe walks over and assists 
her to rise, saying-:) 

Ianthe — Stella, there is but one course for us to pursue; this meeting must 
be prevented. The one and only effective plan, is for you and I to take 
Forrester for a guide and to drive to the place of meeting and make a 
personal appeal, and by our presence prevent a hostile meeting. 

Stella — Oh, Ianthe, I dare not; it would be so unladylike, and so forward, and 
papa would simply be furious. 

Ianthe— (sadly) — Dear Stella, it is the one and only plan that will prove effective. 

Stella — (resolutely) — I will not hesitate, we well go Ianthe and face these brave 
duelists, and they surely will not fight in the presence of ladies. 

CHANGE. 
Duel Scene — Opening glade in forest. 

Harold Micawber and Lieutenant Easterbrooke accompanied by 
surgeon enter; Joe, servant, carrying two rapiers in case. Viscount 
Lountrie and Lieutenant Huntley enter; Tom, servant, carrying two 
rapiers in case. They all salute by tipping- hats; Easterbrooke and Hunt- 
ley, the seco.ids, occupy center or stage and examine weapons car^fu ly 
u.iiu te.-.t them. * 

Huntley — Lieutenant Easterbrooke, the weapons are alright. 



3i 

Easterbrooke — Lieutenant Huntley, I also am satisfied. As The Viscount, your 
principal is the challenged party, please give him the choice of weap- 
ons. 

(Huntley silently takes the rapiers and walking - over to the Viscount offers 
him the choice of weapons.) 

(The Viscount silently takes one and leans it against a tree.) 

(Lieutenant Huntley hands the three remaining rapiers to Easterbrooke, who 
performs a like service to his principal.) 

(Easterbrooke then rejoins Huntley and they advance to footlights.) 
Easterbrooke — Lieutenant Huntley, we are both satisfied that your principal 
intends to act only on the defensive; we are also mutually agreed that 
no murder shall be committed. I have given the matter earnest con- 
sideration and I suggest that we adopt the old French custom; viz: 
Each second to place himself upon the right of his principal, with a 
drawn rapier ready to strike up his principal's weapon, immediately a 
hit has been scored. Does my plan meet with your approval. 
Huntlzy—Vi meets with my hearty approbation. 

Easterbrooke — (gravely) — Well there is nothing left, but to place our princi- 
pals. 

(Huntley bows gravely, and the two gentlemen salute by tipping hats and 
retire to their principals and assist them to disrobe. 

Mr. Micawber — remember my caution. 

(angrily and impatiently.) 
Micawber— Come let us go, they are waiting. 

The principals meet in center of stage. 
Easterbrooke— Lieutenant Huntley, with your permission I will explain to the 

gentleman. 

Huntley bows. Easterbrooke continues: 

Gentlemen, when a bit is scored by one of you gentlemen, Lieutenant 

Huntley and myself will strike up your weapons and announce a hit; 

the surgeon will then examine the wound and decide whether the 

gentlenien is disabled or not, aud upon his decision, will depend 

whether the duel continues or not. Lieutenant Huntley, am I correct 

in my statement? 
Huntley — Quite correct. 
Easterbrooke — Gentlemen, do you understand. 

the principals both bow. 
Easterbrooke — Well, gentlemen, there is nothing further but to proceed. 

(looks inquiringly at Huntley — Huntley bows gravely.) 

^Easterbrooke bows to Huntley and Micawber.) 

Remember. 



32 

(and gravely and reluctantly:) 

Gentlemen, On guard! 

(The princisals cross rapiers and the duel commences. The Viscount fights 
slowl} r and cautiously, H. Micawber fights fiercely making lunge after 
lunge, evidently fast losing his temper, and Micawber, by a fierce 011- 
slaughter forces the Viscount back, but by cool fighting he recovers his 
lost ground. Micawber, wild with passion, makes a furious onslaughter 
and succeeds in wounding the Viscount in the sword arm; as he does so, 
the Viscount secures a lock on Micawber's weapons, and by a rapid and 
dextrous twist, sends it whirling.) 

Easterbrooke and Huntley — (jointly cry) — A hit! 

(they assist the wounded man to a neighboring tree and the surgeon proceeds 
to dress his wound.) 

(at this juncture Stella and Ianthe enter hastily and cries.) 

Stella— Too late ! Too late ! 

(Harold Micawber strides over to his sister:) 

Micawber — Stella, I command you to retire; this is no place for you. 
(draws back from him and exclains passionately:) 

Stella — Do not touch me, you would-be murderer; you are no brother of mine; 
I disown you. 

Micawber — Are you mad? You will be the talk of the entire city. 

Stella — Leave me instantly! If you do not I will appeal to the gentlemen yon- 
der. 
(Easterbrooke approaches and addresses Miss Micawber saying.) 

Easterbrooke — Miss Micawber, I am pleased to be able to relieve your natural 
anxiety. The Viscount is not seriously injured and will only be in- 
convenienced for a short time. 

Stella— (wistfully) — Oh, thank you, Lieutenant Easterbrooke. 1 fear that I 
have been rather dramatic; and the talk will be dreadful, but I was so 
anxious to prevent this meeting from taking place, but we missed the 
road and arrived to late. 

Easterbrooke — Miss Micawber, I cannot express how I honor and admire your 

superb courage; there will be no talk, I will attend to that: and with 

your permission I will see you to your carriage. 
Slell a — (gratefully) — Thank you Lieutenant, I gladly accept your offer and 

will trust to \ ou that this awful affair is ended. 
Easterbrooke — Miss Micawber, have no further uneasiness, the affair is ended. 

the Viscount's wound, though slight, has disabled him. With your 

permission, I will see you to your carriage. 

Exit the ladies and Lieutenant Easterbrooke. H. Micawber ap- 
proaches Viscount Eountrie, tips his hat. 

Micawber — Viscount Lountrie, I bid you good morning, with hopes for your 






33 

speedy recovery. 

(Viscount I^ountrie bows.) 

Exit H. Micawber. 

(Viscount Iyountrie, one arm in sling - , approaches the footlights gloomily say- 
ing.) 

Viscount — I have narrowly escaped death, but only to suffer torture. Every 
fibre of my heart belongs to that girl; I have lost her forever. What 
life has in store for me, I cannot, cannot see; no future, no hope. My 
God, what shall I do. 

CHANGE. 
Scene — Drawing room — England. 

(One year elapsing. Viscount looking over a periodical or something of that 
sort. Footman enters with card on salver. I^ountrie reads. 

Viscoimt — What! Huntley? Show him in at once. 
(Huntley enters, they shake hands.) 

Huntley — I have only arrived this morning and hastened to hunt you up. 

Viscount — You are welcome as the flowers in May, and Huntley you do not 
know; you cannot know, just arriving from India, of my great happi- 
ness, (exultantly) — Huntley, I am married to Stella Micawber. 
(Huntley astonished.) 

Huntley — Viscount; pray excuse me, you certainly do astonish me. 

Viscoimt — Huntley, I will explain. A divorce was granted my former wife, 
about six months ago, and I have been suing for my present wife's 
hand ever since, but she was adamant, until she received a letter from 
Leslie announcing her marriage. I won her consent, and Huntley, I am 
the happiest man in England — aye, the happiest man in the world. 
Huntley, I have had a hard fight; fighting the Sepoys was nothing to 
it, but I have won and the realms of love have opened their portals to 
me, I pray God, never to close again. 

Huntley — Rupert, words are inadequate; in congratulating you, I do so with 
my whole heart. Rupert, you have won a treasure; she is a grand 
noble woman; treasure her as a gem beyond price. 

Viscoimt — Thank you, Huntley. Now Huntley, pray make no excuses, we 
are going to have a few friends, all old India friends, to dinner. Will 
you come, or rather stay? And we, my wife and I, will be so pleased. 

Huntley — Your invitation is so tempting I cannot refuse. 

Viscount — That is right; come to my rooms and make your ablutions; 
while doing so, I will ask you to excuse me as my wife has sent me 



34 

word that she is hastening her toilet and desires a short conversation 

before our guests arrive. 
Huntley — Very well Viscount, but you must lend me your man, as I must 

send to my hotel for my dress suit. 
Viscouni — Certainly, that is easily arranged. 

Exit Viscount. Shortly returns to meet his wife. 

Viscount Lountrie enters. Stella enters hurriedly and trips up to 
the Viscount who kisses her and says: 

Viscount — Why, dear, your new maid must be a marvel; you have changed 
your costume in less than an hour. 

Stella — Yes, Rupert, I acknowledge that I did not waste any time. I knew I 
would find you here and be able to spend a short time with you before 
our guests arrived. Just think Rupert, what a pleasant evening we 
will have. All of our old intimate India friends; your old commander, 
Col. Collinsby and his wife, and your old chum, Easterbrooke 
— and Rupert, just think of it, tomorrow it will be one month 
since our marriage. 

Viscount — Stella, is it possible; it all seems like a dream. 

(Stella laughs happily and clasps her hands loving-ly around Ruperts arm and 
says:) 

Stella — Dear Rupert, it is no dream, is it Rupert? 

Viscount — No dear one, thank God no dream, and may God give me power to 
cherish you, my treasure, my pearl beyond price. Very few men are 
blest as I. My queen, our lives will prove to be one long honeymoon 
unmarred. Stella, ours will be a perfect life. 

Stella — Dear Rupert, I love to hear you talk in that strain and you make my 
heart overflow with happiness and joy — but Rupert, my pleasant con- 
versation is causing me to forget what I desired to see you about. Do 
you know, I have received a long and delightful letter from dear Leslie; 
she is evidently very happily married, she writes in such a joyous vein 
that it adds to my almost perfect happiness, 
(sighing and regretfully she continues. 

Ah, Rupert, that episode in your life is a terrible blot upon your 
escutcheon. Oh, Rupert, that dear girl — how could you, but I have for- 
given you, forgive me for reproaching you, let us bury our skeleton to- 
night forever, and never, never, resurrect it. Hark, was that not a car- 
riage — yes, it is; kiss me dear, here comes our guests. Colonel Collinsby 
and his wife enter and other guests (follow; viz: Easterbrooke, Huntley, 
etc. 

(Stella greets Colonel Collinsby and his wife warmly and then turns to greet 






35 

her other guests. After greetings, introductions are exchanged they ap- 
proach the footlights. 

Col. Collinsby — As this is my first opportunity, I ask you, Viscount, to accept my 
hearty congratulations upon your marriage with the Viscountess, or as 
we knew her in India, Stella with the marble heart. 

Viscountess — Colonel Collinsby, I protest; my husband is vain enough, pray do 
not add to his overweening confidence. 

Col. Collinsby — Viscountess, pray permit me to add that in my opinion he has 
won a true, honorable woman. My estimation of Miss Micawber as we 
knew her in India is. very difficult for me to express; it is such an ex- 
alted one, and I know he won a true, matchless woman, as well as a 
woman that on account of her aid to' the helpless and homeless in India, 
unpublished, proved her to be a true noble woman and the matchless 
work of God. 

(Viscount shakes the Colonel by the hand.) 

Viscount — Thank you Colonel upon my wife's and upon my own behalf, having 
proved yourself in the field, you are evidently reaching out for fresh 
laurels as a courtier, but come, Stella, you must thank the Colonel per- 
sonally. 

Viscoimtess — Colonel Collinsby, I do thank you for your well turned compliment, 
though you have grossly exaggerated, and I desire to add, that in my 
opinion, honor is the matchless word of humanity, and that the honor 
of the Lountries is not dead, but purified by suffering, is resurrected; 
and friends, with my dear husband by my side, who has erred, but 
Phoenix like has commenced a new life. I can truthfully and sincerely 
say that to secure pure and lasting happiness, "Honor is the Only 
True Watchword" and I repeat, "It is Never Too Late to Mend." 

FINALE. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 







I 



